The Night Before The Day
by RonaldAndMione
Summary: A young couple meet and share a conversation on the night before a special day.


_I'm back! It's only been just over a month but it feels like forever. There's just so much that's already started to happen and the year is only going to get busier for me. I have little time to write, which is a shame, because I really want to and I have several ideas that I want to get out. Basically, there will be more of these breaks this year. Things are starting to get really hectic._

_Anyway, today's my birthday so if you can (and I'm fairly certain you all can), leave a review, please? ;)_

**The Night Before The Day**

The sky was cloudless, allowing Ron to see the stars and crescent moon. The quiet the Burrow's location provided was something Ron had always been grateful for. He'd never really liked London and its busy noise. Only its proximity to the Ministry – and everything, really - and Hermione's love for it were enough for him to live there. He was hoping to convince Hermione to move to an actual house in the country after they were married.

Married.

Ron sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy ginger hair – hair that he had somehow managed to save from his mother's scissors. Married.

Tomorrow, he was going to marry Hermione Granger.

She was going to be Hermione Weasley. Or Granger-Weasley, she still hadn't decided.

He was going to be married.

Good Merlin, that sounded old. Mature.

Ron didn't feel like either of those things.

Of course he loved Hermione. He had no doubt about that. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He had wanted to marry her since the summer after sixth year. He had been waiting for this for so many years, but now that it was a few hours away he didn't know if he could go through with it.

It just seemed so... big.

When the thought of marrying her entered his mind during what was meant to be his seventh year, it was a comfort, a dream, a reason to keep fighting. When they got together, finally, it was a future, something that would happen - eventually, but later. All his life, he'd considered marriage a simple promise, and he'd wanted to make that promise to Hermione.

But now, it didn't seem like a mere promise. It seemed like a show, one that Ron wasn't sure he was ready to be in.

What if, tomorrow, he tripped over his clumsy legs and embarrassed himself? What if he forgot the words to his speech, the one that he was supposed to make at the reception? What if the whole day was a disaster? He only wanted to get married once – it had to be perfect, if not for him, then for Hermione.

When he'd proposed to her, none of this had mattered. All he'd known was that he loved her and it was time to take the next step. And he'd done it – albeit clumsily, barely managing to stutter out the words. The flower arrangement, whether the napkins should be ivory or baby powder white, didn't matter to him. All he'd wanted was to stand next to her and promise that he'll love her forever, no matter what. He hadn't thought about how big a wedding was, how important and meaningful it was, especially to girls.

And then, thoughts about how big and important and meaningful a marriage was crept into his mind and his nerves escalated to a new high.

What if they had a huge fight and exploded at each other? What if they grew apart as time went on? It would be a lot harder to back out of a marriage than a simple boyfriend-girlfriend relationship.

What if, later on, Hermione realised she didn't want to be with him?

The thought chilled him to the bone, yet at the same time ignited an angry fire in his stressed-out heart. He felt sick and his nerves were about to slip out of him and onto the grass if he didn't calm down...

"Ron?"

Ron's eyes widened and he straightened up, whirled around, and came face to face with his fiancée.

"Hermione," he said, swallowing down the bile in his throat.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping a little closer to him.

"Just thinking..." Ron answered enigmatically.

"About tomorrow?" Hermione clarified.

"Yeah," Ron simply said, swallowing again. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't bear for her to see the fear in his eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked nervously. "You seem a little... out of sorts."

Though letting her know how scared he was seemed daunting for Ron, lying to her seemed so much harder.

"I suppose I'm..." Ron began, but couldn't finish the sentence. His gaze darted towards the ground, at his bare feet.

"Nervous?" Hermione suggested.

Ron licked his dry, cracked lips and nodded his head once, shame filling him – how would Hermione react?

Then, she uttered two words that stunned him more than he thought stupefy could. "Me, too."

Ron's eyes widened again and he was so shocked that he forgot about not looking at her. His head whirled up and he allowed himself to properly look at her. His lips formed the word "Really?" even as his mind came to the conclusion that she was indeed telling the truth.

Her face, glowing under the moon's light, made no effort to hide her fear. Her eyes, honest as always, shone with nerves. And her lips, her perfect lips, formed a shaky smile, confirming just how nervous she was about letting him know.

And that made Ron smile in return, as he felt a weight lift from his shoulders, allowing relief to flow through his body. They were in the same boat, and that was okay, because he couldn't have handled it on his own, but with her, he knew he was going to be all right.

"C'mere," he murmured and she took the final step towards him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her, protecting her from the cool October air. They both sighed, misty air escaping their mouths.

"What are you afraid of?" Hermione asked into his chest.

"Everything," Ron admitted, stroking her hair. The rhythmic movement, the familiar action, relaxed him more than he cared to admit.

"No," Hermione said, a hint of amusement in her voice as she pulled her head away from him slightly. "Really, what are you afraid of?"

Ron sighed again, allowing his eyes to roam her beautiful face. "Just... I can't screw this up."

"Screw what up?" Hermione asked.

"Tomorrow. I can't... it just feels like a show, and I'm the lead, and I'm scared I'm going to trip, or forget my lines, or fall over my clumsy feet whilst we're dancing and—"

"Ron," Hermione said, smiling up at him, but Ron wouldn't let her interrupt.

"And tomorrow's it, that's it, it's probably the most important day of our lives and if I screw it up that's it, we don't have another chance and I can't, because it has to be perfect and..." Ron didn't know what else he wanted to say. That was probably it.

"Ron," Hermione repeated softly. "Why does it have to be perfect?"

Ron shrugged. "Because... because it's for you," he answered truthfully. "You deserve perfect. And tomorrow... well, I hope... tomorrow's going to be your only wedding day and... and you deserve a perfect one."

Hermione's hands, which had been resting on Ron's shoulders, crept around Ron's neck until they met each other. Hermione, meanwhile, stood up on the tips of her toes, craning until her lips met Ron's in a single, breathtaking, mind-numbing kiss.

It lasted for the briefest of moments but it left Ron dizzy and lightheaded all the same. He opened his eyes to the sight of Hermione lowering herself down onto the ground again.

"Woah," he couldn't help but murmur.

"I love you, Ron," Hermione said to him, her voice cracking with emotion. Ron took in a shaky breath as the love she held for him shone through her eyes. She continued. "I don't want perfect. I want you... and me... and we're far from perfect."

Ron cracked a small smile.

"We're renowned for our rows. You never pick up your wet towels from the ground and I end up having to do it for you. I get caught up in my work and sometimes I neglect you, even though I don't mean to. We have our issues, but that's who we are. I like who we are."

"Me, too," Ron said honestly.

"I don't want perfect on our wedding day. I want _us_ on our wedding day. If you trip as we're walking down the aisle together, I'll laugh and help you straighten up, because I'll be your wife, and that's what wives do."

Ron chuckled, falling more in love with her than he thought possible.

"And if you forget your words during your speech, I know you'll come up with something sweet and wonderful that's probably even better than what you had in mind. Really," Hermione said, a small, cheeky smile on her face, "I'm actually hoping you forget your words."

"Oh, Merlin," Ron murmured and Hermione laughed mellifluously. Ron watched her for a moment and then addressed the last fear. "And if I step on your toes whilst we're dancing?"

"I'll say 'ow,' your ears will turn red as you mumble an embarrassed 'sorry' and then we'll keep dancing."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Ron admitted.

"No," Hermione agreed. "It doesn't."

They smiled at each other and Ron felt excitement brewing inside him – he couldn't wait for tomorrow. Then, he remembered that Hermione was scared, too, and he knew it was now his turn to reassure her.

"What about you?" Ron asked her. "What are you afraid of?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Hermione said, looking embarrassed. Even though it was dark Ron could tell a blush was decorating her cheeks.

"No, come on," Ron insisted, cupping her chin and tilting it so that her eyes were on him. "Tell me."

"Please don't get hurt," Hermione whispered.

"Hermione, you're scaring me," Ron said to her.

"I'm just worried if... down the road, things will change... and you won't want to be married to me." Hermione looked down at the ground between them. "What if we have a huge fight, and we'll barely be able to look at each other?" She took in a deep breath. "I can't stand the thought of losing you – I've lost you too many times before, and it just seems that, if we're married, it'll be so much worse."

If she'd said that five minutes ago, Ron wouldn't have had an answer for her, but now... he knew exactly what to do.

"I can't promise we won't row," he said honestly. "I can't promise one of us won't storm out of the house at some point, needing to cool off. I can't promise that I won't spend a few nights on the couch. I can't promise that, Hermione."

Hermione drew in a shaky breath. Before her fear could completely take over her, however, Ron continued.

"But I can promise you a few things. I can promise you that, no matter what happens, even if it feels like you've lost me, you'll always get me back." Again, he tilted her face so that she met his intense gaze. "You won't ever lose me for good."

Hermione swallowed, her eyes misty. "Ron," she whispered.

"I can promise you," Ron went on, "that, even when we're old and wrinkled and meant to be sick of each other," Hermione sniffed and let out a small laugh, "you'll still be the only girl for me. And I'll never want to leave you. Ever.

"I can promise you that I'll love you until the moment I die."

"Ron, don't talk about that," Hermione said, shaking her head, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Ron tilted his head forward so that his forehead met hers. "I'm gonna love you so much, Hermione, for so long." He breathed her scent in, allowing it to fill him up and let him be brave. "I've always thought that I don't deserve you." Hermione opened her mouth to disagree, but he didn't let her get a word in. "I'll always think that, Hermione. I'll always think that you're too good for me, and that's something you're not going to be able to change."

Hermione breathed out a resigned sigh and he knew she agreed with him. No matter how hard she tried, he'll always think that.

"I'll always think that there are so many other people who could give you so much more than I ever could. There're people who are smarter, richer, more talented, funnier—"

"Ron," Hermione started. "You—"

"But," Ron said loudly, interrupting her. "No one, and I can promise you this, no one... will be able to love you more than I can."

Hermione smiled at him and finally let a tear fall from her eyes. Ron tilted his head and kissed it. He began to pull back, but Hermione didn't let him. Insead, she leaned forward, eyes closed, and found his lips in the dark.

The moment they connected, Ron found out what real magic was.

He pulled her closer, so that every part of her was touching him. She responded by placing her hands gently behind his head and tilting it, bringing him even closer. Breath mingled, lips smiled against each other and hearts beat as one.

They eventually pulled away from each other, beaming gloriously at each other.

"No one," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"No one," Ron repeated.

And tomorrow, he realised, he would simply be telling everyone that. He will tell everyone that Hermione chose him to love her, and that he was going to do it for the rest of his life.

That didn't seem so bad.

It was basically this, a conversation with Hermione, in which they promised each other a forever and sealed the vow with a kiss, only with everybody they loved present.

No, it didn't seem bad at all.

"I can't wait until tomorrow," he said, an awe-struck smile still on his face.

Hermione smiled widely, mirroring him. "Today."

"Wha-" Ron began, and his eyes grew larger. "It's today?"

Hermione reached down, took his hand off of her waist, and showed him his left wrist. His watch read 12:08.

"Blimey," Ron murmured. Then, he remembered something. "I thought it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not worried."

Ron grinned, feeling relaxed and so inexplicably happy. "Neither am I."


End file.
